


Brat-wurst.

by CGotAnAccount



Series: ADVENTure Is Out There! [16]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Little smut, M/M, Shmeith, Slice of Life, thirsty boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:55:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21814771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CGotAnAccount/pseuds/CGotAnAccount
Summary: “You-” Matt wheezes out, clutching his knees as Keith slows to a stop ahead of him, bouncing on his toes. “-are a fucking sadist.”
Relationships: Matt Holt/Keith/Shiro
Series: ADVENTure Is Out There! [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558660
Comments: 26
Kudos: 91





	Brat-wurst.

**Author's Note:**

> Day 16 of Adventures!

“You-” Matt wheezes out, clutching his knees as Keith slows to a stop ahead of him, bouncing on his toes. “-are a fucking _sadist._ ”

“Pfftt.” Still bouncing, Keith reaches an arm across his chest to stretch out one shoulder, then the other. He's not quite rolling his eyes, but Matt knows the sentiment is there, underneath the exhilarated flush and sheen of sweat. “You're just out of shape.”

“Excuse you.” Matt wishes it could come out more indignant, but getting any air at all is the current priority. “Some of us aren't half alien.” He tries to stand to put his hands on his hips, but the stitch in his side twinges and he doubles back over, glaring. “What did Shiro even feed you this morning for you to have this much energy...”

He knows he's set himself up as soon as the smirk crosses Keith's stupid face.

“Sausage.”

Of course, he punctuates it with a wink and a flicker of his brows – like the cocky fucker he is and knows Matt can't resist.

“I hate you.” Matt staggers the few steps between them to drape himself onto Keith's shoulder, letting the lean muscle he's acquired take the weight as he slumps. “Carry me home.”

Now Keith does roll his eyes, sliding an arm around Matt's waist to shift the weight more evenly.

“It's only like two miles.” His arm betrays his words as he tightens his grip and hauls Matt in, half dragging him back in the direction they came. “I know you had to run farther than that during the war.”

Matt shakes his head, splattering droplets of sweat inadvertently.

“Only have to sprint when someone's trying to kill you.” He shrugs the arm not wrapped around Keith's shoulders and tips a grin up toward his ride home. “They usually give up pretty quick or start shooting instead.”

Keith sighs, shaking his own head in disgust as he reaches out to shove Matt's sweaty bangs back away from his face.

“We need to get you doing conditioning drills with us then if two miles is all it takes to bring you this low.”

“Hey!” The protest is weak, at Keith's mercy as he is, and Matt manages only to make himself heavier and bonier out of spite. “Nobody is trying to kill me now, I can get as fat as I want.”

“I'll keep that in mind next time you want me to fuck you against the wall,” Keith grunts, sliding him a look as he lets his fingers dig into Matt's ribs. “I don't plan on throwing my back out for your food fetish.”

Matt sniffs in faux offense, uncoiling his arm and pulling away to stagger on his own.

“That's fine, I don't need the Galra dick... Shiro's is bigger anyway.”

Keith lets him go, one arm hovering behind his back in case his favorite idiot's legs decide to stop working properly.

“Of course Shiro's dick is bigger,” Keith scoffs, eyes going faraway and dreamy. “Have you seen the rest of him?” He swallows the sudden mouthful of saliva and shakes his head, sighing. “That behemoth should be in a medical museum.”

“The ninth wonder of the world,” Matt agrees, nodding. “Last time I took that thing I couldn't walk right for a week.”

“I know,” Keith deadpans, reaching out to flick his ear. “I rode him the next night and _you_ still had the emergency donut.” He shudders at the memory, absently rubbing at his ass. “I had to sit through an entire series of meetings the next day – squirmed so badly Hunk asked me if I needed to use the restroom like six times.”

“It's not my fault you couldn't wait more than twenty-four hours before your cock-slut instincts took over,” Matt shrugs, doing his best to look smug as his legs wobble. He knows Keith could kick his ass without breaking a sweat, but he's counting on being pathetic enough to avoid the eventual punishment until it's of a more fun variety. “You could have just swallowed.”

“Yeah,” Keith snorts, reaching out to snag Matt's shirt as he sways dangerously close to a pole, reeling him into his side again and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “And give my briefing sounding like I had laryngitis? I'm sure Sam and Iverson would've appreciated that.”

“Could've claimed it was a cold,” Matt offers, not bothering to fight the hold as he leans his head on Keith's shoulder. “Or coughed a little for effect.”

Keith throws him a sour look.

“You know Shiro's got a shit poker face. The second either one of us starts croaking around him after a good throat fucking he's red as a lobster and hard as a rock.” Keith smirks at the mental image of Shiro trying to hold it together during a meeting - sweat beading on his temples from the audible aftermath of one of them choking on his cock. “He'd probably stand up and accidentally flip the table with that monster.”

Matt muffles his giggles in Keith's shirt, enjoying the way those long fingers tuck into his waist to hold his dragging steps steady.

“He would, wouldn't he?” He shakes his head with a happy sigh, smiling up at Keith's fond look. “God, he's such a disaster... how's he got everybody fooled?”

“It's the floof.” Keith nods solemnly as he taps at his forehead. “You should've seen him when he- er, well.. _kinda he_ \- came back the first time... he was scraggly as hell.” He shakes his head with a huff of laughter. “I should've known right then something was up, real Shiro would have found a way to trim that shit with his bare hands if he had to.”

“Gotta keep that Golden Boy image,” Matt agrees, letting one hand trail down to Keith's ass to give it an appreciative pat. “Can't let anyone know he's a filthy fucker and an utter disaster.”

Keith arches an eyebrow at him as Matt's hand squeezes, but makes no effort to remove it. The hand wrapped around Matt's shoulder reaches up to play with the ends of his hair as Keith slows their stride even more.

“Got a little more energy in you, Holt?” The flash of a canine in his smirk sets Matt's heart going again from where it had finally calmed down. “I thought I'd wrung you dry.”

Matt shakes his head, careful not to dislodge the hand that was now petting through his hair.

“Nah Kitten, that was last night.” His eyes flash with mischief as he straighten up, pulling Keith to a stop so he can plaster himself to that broad chest and reach behind for a double helping of buns. “If I jog all the way back home can I play pillow princess this time?”

Keith's answering laugh rumbles through their chests as he dips his head to capture Matt's playful grin. Sharp teeth sink into his bottom lip, drawing a gasp that Keith takes advantage of as he licks in, hot and full of intent. Matt whimpers into it, wobbly knees buckling at the ferocity of a kiss that sends him reeling. Strong arms wind around his waist and crush him close, smile curling at the edges of Keith's lips as he pulls away, leaving Matt dazed and gasping.

“Don't you know by now, firecracker?” Keith murmurs against Matt's lips. “You might be an asshole, but you're our asshole... you don't need to run for me.” Then he's reaching lower, hands sliding underneath Matt's ass and hauling him up. “Wrap your legs and hold tight.”

“Yes, sir,” Matt squeaks, instantly hard as a rock as he clings to Keith's shoulders, their cocks dragging together through thin workout gear with every step. It only takes him a second to recognize Keith's plan as he clamps hard around Matt's waist and takes off jogging, barely even changing his stride to accommodate the extra weight.

It's fucking _hot_.

“I changed my mind,” Matt gasps, hiding his face into Keith's neck as he lopes along. “Can you just fucking wreck me?”

Keith gives a huff and clenches tighter, picking up speed as he rounds a corner and spots their house at the end of the block. “You're getting wrecked one way or another, Holt.” He risks a grin down at the needy bundle in his arms. “Shiro's home, and you know how proud he gets when you try to exercise.”

Matt hides the reflexive blush in Keith's shoulder as he scowls.

“Shiro's home early? Then why didn't that fucker come with us?”

“Oh, you'll see...” Keith chuckles into his hair as he slows to a stop in their driveway, making no move to let go of Matt's ass as they grind together. “I'm sure he's been working up a special something, just for you.”

He nudges the door open with a knee and staggers inside, toeing off his shoes before carrying Matt down the hall to their bedroom.

“Just in time,” Shiro pants from the bed, one hand fisted around the tip of his cock while the other wraps around his base. “I've got a present for you Matt.”

Keith lays him down on the bed and strips them both with military efficiency before grabbing Matt's hips and flipping him over. Shiro's cock bobs enticingly as he shifts forward onto his knees, one shimmering sticky thread dripping down to the bedspread. Matt's mouth waters as slick fingers circle him from behind, pushing in as Keith's cock slides through the cleft of his ass. He arches his back and bats his eyelashes at Shiro, reaching out to rub the throbbing, purple tip of his cock against his lips.

“How'd you know,” he murmurs, smearing precome with every word as he suckles... then the corner of his mouth quirks up.

Shiro sees the bad joke in his eyes seconds too late, unable to push forward and gag him to stop the words from spilling out.

“Sausage and gravy for lunch is just what I was craving...”


End file.
